


Stay close to me. Dance with me, Victor.

by classicpleistocene



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dance Off, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, Light Angst, M/M, Post episode 10, Spoilers for Episode 10, Victor's POV, banquet night, headcanon in which Victor and Chris have been FWB in the past, i don't know man i just really wanted to write this ok, my take on banquet night, please check out the link to the timeline I used for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8872678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classicpleistocene/pseuds/classicpleistocene
Summary: Victor has skated to "Stay close to me" before, but now the words have meaning for him, because he's had a taste of the two Ls.A.K.A. Victor's PoV of banquet night and the last time he skates "Stay close to me".





	

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to have a thing for "the other's" PoV.
> 
> Edit: I based my timeline for the banquet on [this picture](http://i.imgur.com/J58rUIV.jpg).  
> It's from Yurio's phone and I assumed, probably wrongly, that that's how the story progressed (from bottom right to top left). This was just my interpretation and I'm not going to change my fic because it took me a long time and idk, I kinda liked how some things happened because I had this timeline in mind. Feel free to disagree and/or point me to strong evidence that things went differently!
> 
> Also, the usual stuff: English isn't my first language, so please be a decent human about my mistakes.
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@cl_pleistocene](https://twitter.com/cl_pleistocene) or [on Tumblr](https://aftgonice.tumblr.com/).

Victor approached the ice rink with Yakov next to him. He was telling him his precious pieces of advice again and again, and they both they were useless at this point. Not that he was ungrateful. He cared about his coach very much, despite not following his advice very often. He never had. But he wouldn’t be Victor Nikiforov, living legend of ice skating, if it wasn’t for Yakov, and that wasn’t something Victor took lightly. But at the same time there was nothing new he could learn, nothing new he could do that would surprise his audience or inspire younger skaters. He was the best, and when you’re the best, and you’ve been for many years, that’s all people see in you. He had no more tricks up his sleeve. He would just keep being the best –until he wasn’t. Until a younger skater came and bested him. Maybe the “Ice Tiger of Russia”, like he had heard the young Yuri call himself. It was just inevitable that his career as a skater would come to an end, and he had been thinking of retiring before his body started to give out. He could leave now at his peak, but there was no easy way to do it.  
He spared a glance at Yakov. He had stopped talking, probably noticing Victor was lost somewhere in his own mind.

“Just go, Victor.” Yakov didn’t usually smile, and the sad smile he gave him was enough to tell him that he understood where his thoughts had taken him. Victor smiled back and entered the rink.

 

***

 

He put his smile on when he entered the room with Yakov. He didn’t think of this smile as _fake_ anymore. The smile he had when he entered a room full of skaters (and rivals) after a competition wasn’t the same one he gave his friends, but he knew he was the only one who could tell the difference.

He heard Chris’ voice call him and turned. Chris looked already tipsy and the party had barely just started. Suddenly Victor’s smile was a genuine one.

“Hey, Chris.” How he wished he could get drunk, too. But these events were too public, and he was too _famous_. Thankfully he could afford to drink quite a few glasses before starting to even feel the alcohol in his body, and even then nobody really ever noticed when he was a little tipsy.

Chris put his arm around his shoulders in a casual manner. “You beat me again, you old bastard,” he said with a wink.

“Where’s the news?” He was grateful to have found an unlikely friend in Chris, despite him being one of his main rivals on the ice: he wasn’t the type to be angry at him even though Victor had always beaten him.

“Will this be the time I finally get to see you completely wasted?” Chris was getting touchy, running his fingers through Victor’s hair. Victor didn’t really mind, and besides, it’s not like they hadn’t _touched_ before.

“Your tie is fucked up.” He didn’t really want to use that word too often, but right now a better English term escaped him. He pushed Chris lightly to arm-length and began fixing his tie matter-of-factly. There was little affection in the way he did. He didn’t lightly brush Chris’ chest or pause the motion to run the back of his hand on his stubble. Those were things a lover might do, and Chris just wasn’t that. Especially now that Chris was _engaged._ But they felt comfortable with each other enough that he didn’t find it weird to want to fix his tie, that was all.

Chris kept smiling, happily drunk, and Victor knew his tie would need fixing again soon. “Let’s go get some food, I’m starving.”  
Chris followed him to the banquet table and they started filling their plates.

 

***

 

He stopped hearing the audience as soon as he reached the center of the ice. The music started, and so did his routine.

> _“_ _Sento una voce che piange lontano_  
> 
> _Anche tu sei stato forse abbandonato”_

He had requested specifically that the Italian words refer to a man. He didn’t care that most of the audience wouldn’t pick on it –he wouldn’t skate to a lie. The only way he could have ever somehow _felt_ the lyrics was if he knew at least a plausible part of himself was reflected on them. That’s all it had been at first: a part of him that might exist somewhere, sometime. He had always been good at putting feelings into his performances as if they were something he felt first-hand.

But today was different. He had skated to this piece before, but never had he been so aware and so conscious of its meaning. Today the audience would see Victor Nikiforov’s real feelings, and it hurt him deeply to know that nobody would notice the difference. He had become too good at pretending, and now even what might have been the last surprise up his sleeve wouldn’t show in his movements.

 

> _“Orsù finisca presto questo calice di vino_ _  
> Inizio a prepararmi”_

It was almost funny how something that months ago had no meaning for him could have brought him to tears so many times when he was practicing alone these past few months. He had seen some hidden meaning in other songs or arias before, and he knew it was mostly one’s mental state that changed the way the brain interpreted the lyrics, but never had he been so moved by something. He felt so helpless, even as he landed his quadruple flip perfectly.

 

>   _“Adesso fa’ silenzio”_

 

***

 

The other skaters were all occupied in casual conversation all over the room. Victor spotted Yuri playing on his phone next to Yakov, ever the loner. He supposed it made sense that he was bored, being the youngest one in the room. As far as Victor knew, he hadn’t even started drinking yet.

Victor kept conversing with Chris over their performances, but was distracted by the Japanese Yuuri’s entrance. His coach Celestino was pushing him through the room, and Yuuri clearly didn’t look like he wanted to be there. Victor supposed being dead-last was embarrassing, but that still meant Katsuki was one of the six best male skaters worldwide at the moment.

Yuuri reached the champagne table and Celestino left him to go talk to other people. Victor kept listening to Chris joking about JJ and his impossible charm, but kept watching the Japanese skater. He was now downing a full flute of champagne without giving himself time to savor it. His intention to get drunk was clear, and Victor protectively chose to keep an eye on him.

The young Yuri came from behind him and tugged his elbow, and he gave the boy his full attention. He wanted some feedback on his performance. Victor was always glad to help him, and they left Chris to find someone else to chatter with.

 

***

 

> _“Con una spada vorrei tagliare_  
>  _Quelle gole che cantano d'amore_  
>  _Vorrei serrar nel gelo le mani_  
>  _Che esprimono quei versi d'ardente passione”_   

He landed his flying sit spin as he once again felt the lyrics _flow_ through his body. _Those throats that sing of love_ – they’d know what love is, what passion is. They’d felt it, lived it. He, on the other hand, he could skate it, he could skate it better than anyone. But what did he know? He was a living legend, but what did he know about anything? About Love? About Life? He’d been neglecting both for over twenty years, and now that he’d seen a sparkle of both…he didn’t know what he should do. Could he even recognize Love? What if it was just some passing thing?

 

> _“Questa storia che senso non ha_ _  
> Svanirà questa notte assieme alle stelle”_

Yes, that’s what it was. Something that he felt one night, nothing more. There was nothing more than that. That night that ended months before, that night where nothing had even _happened_. That _thing_ ended that night, when the stars disappeared from the sky.

 

***

 

He was still chatting with Yuri when he heard Chris’ laughter rise from the other side of the room, close to the champagne table. He signaled Yuri to follow him and they arrived to the Japanese Yuuri chatting away with Chris, the alcohol clearly loosening him up.

“Victor!!!” Yuuri almost screamed when he saw him and Yuri approach.

“Katsuki Yuri!” Victor said with similar enthusiasm. Drunk people could be annoying sometimes, but he’d dealt with enough drunk skaters to know to be amiable to them even more than when they were sober. He found that he didn’t have to fake it too much this time.

“Ohh, the Ice Tiger.” Yuuri approached the boy and pulled him in a hug that the younger skater was quick to get away from. “That’s right, you weren’t very polite to me before,” Yuuri said with a pout.

“Loser,” murmured Yuri.

The Japanese didn’t seem to notice or care and continued his drunken speech. “So what if we’re both Yuri? We share no other similarities.” Yuuri continued to laugh throughout his sentence, and Victor felt his own laughter rise from his stomach. He didn’t know what all this was about, but knowing Yuri he could guess that he’d talked to the other Yuuri before this banquet. He could picture him clearly: “ _There’s no room for two Yuris on the ice”_. Admittedly, he was getting confused himself, having two _Yuri_ around.

They kept talking and entertaining each other for a few minutes, while Yuuri downed two more flutes of champagne.

 

***

 

> _“Se potessi vederti_ _  
> Dalla speranza nascerà  
>  L’eternità”_
> 
>  

He kept telling himself it was nothing. Except his feelings had stayed long after that night, and as he landed his quadruple Salchow, Victor wondered for the umpteenth time if he should do it, how he could do it, how he would do it. _If I could see you._ But he hadn’t seen him anymore. Yuuri had seduced him and then he’d left him without a word. Almost five months of __nothing._  _ He didn’t know if he had retired or just taken some time off. Had he been joking? Had he been so completely drunk that he hadn’t meant it? For God’s sake, _had he forgotten_?

 

> _Stammi vicino_ _  
> Non te ne andare  
>  Ho paura di perderti”_

 

***

 

Sara Crispino’s voice raised above the others as she announced a dance off. Everyone in the room cheered and Victor felt himself being dragged to the middle of the room by Yuuri, who had the younger Yuri on his other side. Victor laughed and tried to get away from Yuuri’s hold, with the only result that the Japanese skater’s arm was now around his waist instead of around his shoulders.

“Come on Victor! Dance!” Yuuri’s accent was even stronger when he was drunk, and Victor found he didn’t mind it at all. He quite liked it, in fact.

Yuuri didn’t wait for Victor, despite having invited both him and the young Yuri to dance, and started dancing alone. Victor adjusted his blazer and just stood watching him for a few minutes with a sheepish smile.

“Plisetsky!” Yuuri called, “I challenge you!”

Victor was not about to let this opportunity pass, and pushed the boy lightly towards Yuuri. “ _Davai_ , Yuri.”

Victor kept laughing and laughing, and the more his abs hurt from all the laughing and skating, the more he was unable to stop. Katsuki Yuri was making a fool of himself, and Victor had never seen him enjoying himself so much. Not that he’d seen much of him, but when he did, Yuuri always seemed sad and worried, and Victor didn’t know if it was just from his skating performances or if something else was bothering him. But he liked this Yuuri, uninhibited and confident in his dance moves.

The younger Yuri was having fun as well, Victor could tell. He poured his heart and soul in this dance off, no doubt taking the little competition too seriously. Victor felt his heart melt a little at the sight of the kid having the time of his life. He had been a lonely teenager too, but, contrary to Yuri, he had the social skills necessary to interact with his fellow skaters on public events like these, and eventually make friends with them. Yuri Plisetsky had nobody, that Victor could tell, except for him and Yakov, and even with them he was always reserved. So the sight in front of him made him feel like a happy parent whose outcast kid is having fun for the first time.

Meanwhile, everyone was taking pictures of those two, and each dance move was more daring and _weird_ than the last. Victor couldn’t help himself and took pictures too, but he hoped nobody would share them on the internet. Most of the people in the room were fairly well known skaters themselves and likely knew better than to post incriminating evidence of a drunken night on social media.

Chris appeared from his side with a bag and Victor began protesting –he knew what Chris always brought with him at after-parties. Chris shushed him, and began setting up the portable pole with the help of some other skaters.

That was when Victor decided to get a glass of champagne for himself –God, he needed one if he was going to have to watch Chris pole dance. The young Yuri reached him at the banquet table, out of breath, his tie and suit disheveled. Victor smiled at him and patted his back.

“Champagne?” He asked. Yuri shrugged and took a glass, drinking it quickly to soothe his thirst after the dance. “Yuri, champagne is supposed to be savored.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Yuri-” Victor stopped talking the moment he saw Chris hanging with his legs around the pole he had just set up. Half naked. Cheering him was the Japanese Yuuri, who was taking his blazer off.

Victor stood with his mouth open and watched as Chris descended from the pole and started encouraging Yuuri to pole dance. Which Yuuri did, and soon enough Chris joined him on the pole again. Only to point out that Yuuri was wearing way too many clothes for pole dancing. They both got off the pole and Yuuri started stripping, with the help of Chris, to just his underwear.

“ _Bozhe moi_ ,” murmured the Russian Yuri. Victor finally closed his mouth and locked eyes with the boy, and they immediately burst out laughing.

 

***

 

The most difficult part of his performance was approaching. Technically and emotionally. He found strength in his emotions for the first time since he had begun skating, and that was maybe what scared him the most.  

 

> _“Le tue mani, le tue gambe_  
>  _Le mie mani, le mie gambe_  
>  _I battiti del cuore_  
>  _Si fondono tra loro”_  

He remembered their legs intertwining, their hands only leaving each other to find the other’s waist. It had been but one dance, shared sweat and heavy breaths, but Victor was still there with his mind and his body. The sudden thought hit him that he might be watching him, and he dedicated his signature move to him, willing his feelings to travel far and fast. _Just foolish thoughts_. But as he landed his final quad he felt a surge of hope in his veins.

 

> _“Partiamo insieme_ _  
> Ora sono pronto”_
> 
>  

_Now I’m ready,_ he thought as the music stopped and the audience roared.

***

 

 “Come, Yuuri, let me show you my favorite pictures.” It was a lame excuse to get Yuuri to catch his breath and drink something other than champagne (something he had inexplicably managed to do even while pole dancing with Chris), but Victor couldn’t think of anything better right now, and he somehow thought that telling Yuuri to rest was only going to hurt the Japanese skater’s fragile pride.

He led Yuuri to the nearest chair and grabbed one for himself. The young Yuri was standing around awkwardly, so Victor told him, in Russian, to find Yuuri’s clothes. For a second the boy looked torn between defying him and wanting to get them both out of his sight, then he disappeared to do as Victor had told him.

Victor sighed in relief and started pouring water from a pitcher in an empty glass he found on the banquet table, and offered it to Yuuri. He was panting hard, and sweat covered his body, the result of combining alcohol and physical exercise, and he drank the water ravenously. Victor refilled his glass twice more and finally sat down next to him. He took out his phone and began showing him his favorite moments of his skating career.

“…and this was in Sofia. It’s one of my best memories, winning gold at the Junior World Championship. The costume I had is one of my favorite, too. It has both-”

“Both feminine and masculine elements to it. I know.” Yuuri didn’t say it like he was annoyed to hear something he already knew: he looked pleased and sleepy, and he smiled sheepishly. Victor could only smile back for a few seconds, until a pile of clothes fell on his lap.

“Good luck dressing him,” said Yuri, and disappeared again in the crowd of people.

Victor started sorting out Yuuri’s clothes, and decided starting with the pants would be the less awkward and personal thing to do. Yuuri was laughing and holding his head with his hands, as if his neck muscles had lost that ability, and Victor started dressing him. He had to kneel on the floor to get his feet inside his pants, and when he stood he pulled Yuuri up and told him, “You’re going to need to pull up your pants yourself, Yuuri.” He winked and Yuuri started laughing again as he awkwardly reached for his pants.

When that was done, Victor helped him put his shirt on, and this time he couldn’t completely block out the feeling of Yuuri’s skin and sweat under his hands as he pulled the shirt’s lapels to Yuuri’s chest and buttoned one single button, careful to not get Yuuri’s tie stuck in it. (He had never taken it off, but that was probably Chris’ doing: he had a _thing_ for ties, as Victor clearly remembered.)

 Yuuri managed to finish buttoning his shirt by himself, and Victor playfully ran a hand through his sweaty hair. Yuuri caught his other hand in his and started leading him to the main action of the party again, where a hectic song was playing.

“Yuuri…”

“Dance with me, Victor!”

Perhaps Victor was selfish, but he couldn’t say no. He let him lead him and they began dancing –a bit awkwardly, and he thought he wouldn’t have minded being slightly tipsy for this. They didn’t dance _together_ exactly, rather they danced at the same time, in the style of a dance-off, but Victor was aware of Yuuri throughout it. They found each other’s eyes more than once and danced _at_ each other. When the music changed again, it was slower and it called for a different type of dancing. Yuuri got closer to Victor and offered him his hand.

“Dance with me, Victor,” Yuuri said again. He seemed to have sobered up a little, and his voice was more quiet, barely audible above the music. Victor found that he couldn’t look away from his eyes as he gripped his other hand firmly and started moving in a slow dance. Yuuri followed his steps, and for a while all they could do was stare at each other. As the music became faster and chaotic and _playful_ again, Victor held their joined hands up to lead Yuuri in a twirl, and they broke eye contact for the first time, only to find it again as soon as they were facing each other.

They continued like this for a while, becoming more daring as they continued. They improvised tango steps, their legs intertwining, their hands only leaving each other to find the other’s waist instead. Victor thought of a lovers dance, where the bodies are inevitably attracted and addicted to one another, except it was absurd. Soon they were both sweaty and out of breath, and Victor slowed his steps gradually, conscious that Yuuri was still too drunk to feel his own exhaustion.

Yuuri leaned his head on Victor’s chest and Victor was hyper-aware of his own heartbeat and the one he could feel through Yuuri’s palm. He closed his eyes as the music slowed to a halt, and so did they. Victor cupped Yuuri’s head and waited for a few moments, until he felt the eyes of everyone in the room on them. He nudged Yuuri, who startled – _had he fallen asleep like that?_ Yuuri looked puzzled and _so drunk._ He embraced Victor and his voice was suddenly louder and drunker than it had been while they danced.

“Victor, after this season ends, my family runs a hot spring resort, so please come. If I win this dance-off, you’ll be my coach, right? Be my coach, Victor!”

* * *

 

**April**

 

Makkachin’s bark finally woke him up fully. He had fallen asleep on his couch after practice, and the seemingly hundreds of notifications had only managed to annoy him, but now he was actually curious.

 _What’s going on?_ The last time his phone had buzzed so relentlessly was when Chris had announced his engagement to his boyfriend and their skaters’ group chat had gone crazy.

He reached for his phone and began sorting through the notifications. He decided the most reliable source was Chris.

> Chris: Hey V, have u seen it???  
>  Chris: U think he remembers?? OMGGGG  
>  Chris: Hey  
>  Chris: Hey  
>  Chris: He freaked you out didn’t he  
>  Chris: V?  
>  Chris: He good though ;)  
>  Chris: In the remote possibility u didn’t see it yet:  
>  Chris: [YouTube preview: Katsuki Yuuri skates to “Stay cl…]

Victor’s heart began racing as soon as he read the video preview’s title. In his head two words began taking shape.

_He remembers._

**Author's Note:**

> This thing sucked my soul dry. I've cried and laughed and done a thorough study of banquet night's photos to understand when Yuuri had his clothes on, when he didn't, when he put them back on, etc.
> 
> I tried to stay as close to canon as possible, only adding Victor's introspection and my little headcanon that Victor and Chris are now very good friends who have been FWB in the past and they don't feel weird or anything.
> 
> It was a pain in the ass to write the banquet because I can't call the Russian Yuri "Yurio" yet and OMG it was so confusing to write. Hopefully it makes sense reading it though. 
> 
> One thing that was awkward was having to google "portable pole dancing pole" to make sure it was a thing. 
> 
> And yes, Victor couldn't think of anything better than "Your tie is fucked up" because I couldn't think of anything better, being ESL and all. Eventually better terms came to my mind but I left it because oh well. Also Victor totally curses, just not that often.
> 
> You can find the translation for "Stammi vicino" here: [here](http://yurionice.wikia.com/wiki/Stay_Close_to_Me).
> 
> Comments are highly appreciated ♥


End file.
